


Forceful

by DelightfullyHuman



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BDSM, Blowjobs, Bondage, Come Shot, Flogging, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Punishment, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 05:42:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6740884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelightfullyHuman/pseuds/DelightfullyHuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Touching without permission is not allowed, but the Knight seems to decide it's worth the risk and the punishment after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forceful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cuddlewithacorpse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlewithacorpse/gifts).



The first touch came during the morning meeting. It was a fleeting thing, a trace down his spine beneath his clothes, but it startled him. There was no one there behind him; the only way to touch the General like that would be through some odd, nearly electric source of power.

The second touch came shortly after, light brushes against his shoulders.

The third was a caress to his cheek as he stood on the bridge, which he swatted away as if he would a pest, which was exactly where the touches were coming from.

As the day progressed, the touches escalated, to a mimicry of two hands sliding up the leather of his jodhpurs, worshipful and needy.

It was Kylo, there was no doubt. It had been some time since Hux had taken him to bed, and even longer since Kylo had asked for it. Hux thought back to the time when Kylo used to speak in his mind, to send him images and impressions to tempt him. Hux had put a stop to that with a cane, and he fondly remembered the neat row of bloodied, bruising lines against that pale skin.

Kylo had learned his lesson in that instance, but the same could not be said for everything. He was becoming needy, and apparently not busy enough that he had the time to spare to distract Hux.

That would also have to be corrected.

Hux was brief in his message:

My rooms, 2100 hours.

In the middle of swing shift, and usually when Hux retired. It was unusual for any leader to take more than his allotted hours, but the incredible amount of work that had to be done correctly forced Hux to stay on well into swing shift, and often into Gamma. As it was, he should have been on time, but something always went wrong, and Hux was delayed enough to turn the corner to find the Knight waiting for him by his quarters.

Hux said nothing to him, and Kylo returned the silence as Hux keyed his access code into the pad by the door. He stepped inside Hux’s rooms as if entitled to do so, without invitation. Each step he took was measured, sure; as if he was mindful of an injury, or restrictive clothing.

“May I ask what the occasion is?” Hux began, glancing sidelong at Kylo as he hung up his greatcoat.

“What occasion?” Kylo’s voice was muffled through the mask.

“I wondered if there was an occasion, seeing as you have been dogging me all day with your magic tricks.” Hux sank into his desk chair, the slight upturn of his lips more savage that a frown could have been. He could feel Kylo’s scowl in the air around him. He could almost see it etched into the mask.

“Take it off, Ren,” he said, taking the first sheaf of papers from the unsorted pile thumbing through it. “I would rather see your beautiful face.”

It was said with a cruel sneer, but Kylo wordlessly complied. He removed the helmet, freeing the tumbles of thick black hair and revealing the wicked scar that slashed his face apart. He all but slammed it down onto Hux’s desk, the sound solid but eerily hollow.

Hux made a noise with his tongue. “Wound so tight,” he said. “Why don’t you be good and fetch the flogger from my closet?”

At that, Kylo perked up. The flogger was his favorite, a rare treat amidst a myriad of implements used to punish and occasionally reward. He was quick to fetch it and stand, trying to keep hold of his eagerness, in front of Hux’s desk.

The sound of the pen scratching against paper was the only sound for a moment, then two, until Hux’s voice sounded in the thick quiet of the room.

“Strip.”

Kylo obeyed, laying the flogger in front of his helmet on the desk before divesting himself of the swathes of black cloth that hid bruises and scars, evidence of failures and submissions, from the outside world.

He wore not a stitch of clothing beneath his robes, save for the finely hand twisted jute ropes that crossed over the pale skin of his torso.

It caught Hux’s attention, and he looked up from his work to inspect the neatly tied karada. It was a simple tie, easy to do on one’s own. He was surprised that Kylo had taken such initiative. To touch him without permission was one thing. To wear crossed lines of rope to anticipate a beating was something else.

“Did you put this on before meeting me?” He asked, his voice deceptively professional.

“No,” came the brusque response. “It was on this morning.”

Ah. And now he could see them- indentions along the edges of the rope where it had lain too long against the skin. He imagined Kylo placing himself in the tie after his morning exercise, his body damp and wanting.

Kylo was always wanting. Be it Skywalker or approval or a hot cock inside him, he wanted something to fill up his emptiness. Hux could see it. It was what drew them to each other. Kylo wanted to be filled with something other than his own struggle. Hux wanted to impose his will on every willing vessel that met his approval.

But as much as Kylo was itching to be rewarded with Hux’s firm hand for his transgression, there was still the matter of the Force. Touching was not allowed unless Hux gave express permission, and that included the Force. Kylo knew this, or should.

“Pick up the flogger,” he said, turning his eyes away from Kylo’s alabaster skin, crossed with the black lines of rope, accented with the solid knots leading the eye down his chest, down his belly, between his legs.

Kylo obeyed, lifting the leather with long fingers and a practiced hand, checking the familiar weight and letting the tails brush against his bare thighs. Hux could see that he intended to wait until Hux rose and held out his hand for the flogger, but Hux had different intentions. He turned back to his paperwork.

“I’m not going to touch you, filthy boy,” he said. “You get to do it yourself. No number this time, I think. Continue until I say to stop.”

As he spoke, he could feel Kylo’s indignance rise and threaten to spill from his mouth. But he also felt Kylo catch himself. He’s been sent away wanting too many times to want to risk being left unsatisfied.

There is a few moments of silence, filled only by the scratching of Hux’s pen against the paper, until Kylo moved, turning his back to Hux and letting the flogger swing in his hand. Hux took the opportunity to glance up.  

Kylo’s back was strong and solid, marred only with a few scars, and marked with the back ties of the karada. It was sloppier than Hux would have preferred or allowed, but he imagined that Kylo would have little patience when it came to knotting the rope behind his back.

Kylo swung the flogger, as if gaining momentum, or stalling, before he moved. The action swept through his shoulder, elbow, wrist, the leather thongs of the flogger arching through the air and over his shoulder to harshly kiss the skin of his back.

The sound was solid, a hard smack against his flesh, and Kylo’s shoulders jumped with the sudden thudding sting. He fell into a rhythm that was leisurely at first, unsure of the pain, but it escalated into a near frenzied self-flagellation. His breath was heavy, soft without the filter of the mask, and devolved into hard gasps and moans when the thongs hit a particularly sensitive spot. His back was reddened, lash marks extending around his pale ribcage, and the deep red accented the sharp black lines of the rope even more.

Hux continued to work, switching to answering messages on his data pad. The sound of the leather striking flesh was the only sound that filled the room at all, aside from Kylo’s pants. If Hux wanted it, Kylo would continue the beating until he drew blood, and then keep going.

“Stop.”

One last strike and the blows ceased. The flogger hung from Kylo’s hand, his shoulders hunched forward with the heavy exhales of breath. His back was tender and raw under the ropes, several spots blooming deep with a violet bruising.

“Face me. Kneel.”

Kylo obeyed, kneeling with less grace than he would normally, but the change was something that only Hux could tell, for he knew the difference. He folded his arms behind him, his shoulders rolling back with care, even though Hux knew that he enjoyed the pain. Kylo enjoyed being whipped and then fucked on his back, if only to feel the wounds rubbing against the sheets.

“You’re hard.”

Kylo nodded, closing his eyes as if recalling that he was, in fact, incredibly aroused. He shifted on his knees, widening his stance and pulling the rope taut between his legs.

Hux glanced up at him briefly.

“Pleasure me,” he ordered, but when Kylo attempted to stand to come forward, or to crawl, Hux stopped him. “No. From there.”

Aggressive confusion crossed his face, until he realized what Hux meant. The confusion turned into part frustration, part delight, and he slid his tongue over his bitten lips.

Hux felt the first touch of the Force against the inside of his thighs, firm but still fleeting enough to feel like something other than flesh and blood. The touch progressed, creeping up the insides of his legs, and Hux parted them. There was no need; the Force could have touched him either way. Even so, it felt right to do it.

The sensation against him was more a caress than anything, managing to touch his skin, and deeper, even with his clothes still firmly in place. It was slow, torturous, and Hux suspected that this was the manner in which Kylo intended to take his revenge. Hux turned back to his data pad, clearing and denying requests as he saw fit.

He could almost hear Kylo grit his teeth, and the touch against his thighs tightened. But as Hux continued to ignore Kylo, he settled, and the touch against him became softer, more pleasurable, as if Kylo was begging for his attention.

He denied it.

The plaintive touch finally reached his cock, caressing it in an agonizing, worshipful sensation. Like a tentative tongue exploring cock for the first time, or after a long time without, it dragged up to the head to engulf it in sensation. Hux could clearly imagine Kylo’s big, dark eyes looking up at him, pleading, his mouth stuffed full.

A quick glance showed him that Kylo was still kneeling on the floor, his arms crossed behind his back. His head was bowed, dark curls hiding his face. Hux could see the red welts curving over his shoulders and around his sides. The black rope against the dim light of the room seemed to cleave him into pieces.

Hux took a deep, silent breath, drawing his composure around him like he would his greatcoat. “I have to make a video call,” he said, his voice deceptively calm. “You will continue.”

Kylo glanced up, his posture straightening with excitement. His dark eyes glittered with mischief, and Hux shot him a single warning look before sending the holo vid request.

The bridge answered immediately, and everyone in his line of sight had stiff shoulders and straight backs, as they did when he was physically there. They were afraid, awed. Opposed to Kylo, who had doubled his efforts to engulf his cock in pleasurable sensation, tuning in to the places that he knew Hux reacted to the most.

Hux kept a stern expression on his face as he gave orders, his fist gripping his pants leg beneath the desk. His voice was calm, expressionless; devoid of any feeling or inflection at all, it was perhaps a shoddy cover. Even so, no one would guess that the Knight of Ren was before him, bared and beaten, and pleasuring him under the desk. And even if someone suspected, they would never speak a word of it.

That was a perk of the power, he supposed, and Hux entertained a brief fantasy of fucking Kylo on the bridge, in front of the entire crew, if front of the stars, in front of Snoke, even. He wasn’t entirely sure if the imaginings came from him, or something that Kylo imposed on him via the Force, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Kylo wanted to be humiliated so thoroughly.

The touch on his cock tensed, and began to pull eagerly, and Hux nearly gasped aloud. He terminated the call abruptly, slamming his data pad on his desk and shooting a murderous glare to Kylo.

“Come here,” he hissed.

Kylo attempted to hide the smirk on his face, but he couldn’t quite conceal it as he crawled to Hux, his limbs long and pale and graceful. His back was redder than it had been earlier, and Hux could see bruising. He had gone hard on himself, as he deserved.

The feeling of the Force against his cock didn’t let up, and Hux gave a tight exhale as he opened his pants. He pulled his cock free with one hand, and a handful of Kylo’s hair in the other, dragging the two together. It only took a few strokes of Kylo’s wicked tongue to finish him, and Hux came into his mouth, smearing his lips and cheek with thick ropes of white.

Kylo’s eyes fluttered closed, as if he was feeling the sensation too, feeding on it through the Force. Was it possible? Hux didn’t know. He did know, however, that Kylo looked lovely on his knees like this; spend in his mouth, a gloved hand in his hair, ropes and welts covering his skin. Hux allowed himself a small, indulgent smile.

“Good boy,” he murmured, stroking Kylo’s hair. “You’re still hard, aren’t you? You’re dripping onto my floor.”

Kylo nodded, his breath catching. Hux’s smile widened, and he pushed Kylo’s head away.

“Leave.”

Anger, sheer outrage took Kylo in half an instant, and he turned his head back to Hux with an incredulous look on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hux spoke first.

“Do you think that I don’t know you’re scheduled for Gamma shift?” He said. “This was punishment, for you breaching my personal space without permission. Get up, go. Do your duty and perhaps, when your shift is over, I can find the time to fuck you.”

The sound that came out of Kylo’s mouth was half protest, half whimper. He stood, stiffly, his shoulders tight and his hands clenched. But he pulled his coarse robes over the ropes and the welts on his back with no complaints, and swept out of the room, his helmet under one arm.

The shreds of the Force that lingered seemed disappointed, angry. But also satisfied, anticipatory. Perhaps Kylo wanted to be fucked on the bridge after all.

Hux laughed to himself, then stood. He needed a change of clothes. Perhaps a shower. He glanced down by chance, to see that Kylo had, in fact, dripped onto the floor, and left it there.

He grit his teeth. Another punishment was in order. One always was.

**Author's Note:**

> An example of karada can be seen [here](http://www.restrainedelegance.com/preview/lexicon1/reh_20091230_1221675.jpg).  
> Always remember to be safe, sane, and consensual in real life pursuits of BDSM.  
> Riley, I hope you enjoyed! <3


End file.
